Safe at Last
by blackbeltchic
Summary: Set during The Girl In Question Buffy's having problems with the Immortal, and Angel and Spike must get that head. How can they save both of them?


Safe at Last

**Author**: Karen

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the characters, they belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.

**Author's Notes** **1**: This was written for a challenge competition at Two Heads Are Better Than One Challenge Ficathon.

**Challenge**: #18 issued by Kristi & Rachel

During Ats S5 The Girl in Question: Angel and Spike catch up with Buffy.

**Requirements**:

1. Buffy is not actually dating the Immortal.

2. No Spike bashing

3. Angel/Spike banter

4. Spike showing the maturity about Buffy and Angel that he showed in Chosen.

5. Mention of Puppet Angel

6. The quote: Love doesn't hide. It stays and fights. It goes the distance, that's why love is so strong. So it can carry you all the way home.-Anonymous

1. Popsicle Toes (Just whatever pops in your brain when you see that.)

2. A bottle of wine

A mention of Angel's last time in Rome.

**Author's Notes** 2: I'm sorry, I didn't get the Popsicle toes in there….I have no clue how to add it… And I changed the quote a tad…sorry, but my muse wouldn't take no for an answer. Including this long winded thing, the story is 2,150 words, but without it, it's only 1,929 words, and I'm sorry about that as well. Muses don't deal with word limits, which is why she doesn't help me with schoolwork. The parts of the script are from Buffy World.

**Warning**: Hints of date rape, so the story is not suitable for children under probably fifteen years of age.

She was the essence of beauty, bobbing, weaving, jiggling, in her slinky red top and black, skintight leather pants. She was the center of attention; guys couldn't get enough of her, some even hoped she'd fall out of her backless shirt, while the women wanted her to leave.

She frequented the club on a nightly basis, until all hours of the morning, unable to find the solace of sleep while the night things roamed. If her friends saw her, they'd want to know what the hell she was doing, partying, drinking, trying to find some comfort in random men's arms. Her brain, ever the sensible one, would tell them she was living without love. But a life without love, her heart would whisper, though never heard, is no life at all.

A tall thin man moved in front of her, and she stopped her provocative dancing, trying to find either her next kill or her next conquest.

"Leave me alone!" she yelled over the music. She moved away, but he grabbed her, pulling her against him, grinding into her to the beat.

"No woman can resist me," he whispered in her ear. He then began kissing her neck. She arched against him against her will. She knew he was old, far older than most of the patrons of the club, and he had experience, maybe that was why she was attracted to him despite herself. She had promised she wouldn't get involved with another immortal stalker of the night. She had done that twice, and neither had worked out.

"Dancing. Why'd it have to be dancing?" he asked.

His companion turned to the female bartender, "You speak English, luv?"

"Si, si. I love the English," she returned.

"We'll get along fine then," he smiled.

"We're looking for a girl. American. Blonde hair. Green eyes," the larger man pushed him out of the way.

"Many blond American co-educationals. Spring break? The girls, they go wild," the bartender told them in heavily accented English.

"No, no. We-we're looking for a friend of ours," the dark one insisted. He glanced around the club, partially thankful establishments like this one hadn't been around his last time in Italy. Of course, Angelus hadn't needed dark clubs pounding with loud music and girls dancing like they were prostitutes to have fun.

"She's in trouble. This ponce called the Immortal is-"

The bartender interrupted, "Ah, si. Si. The Immortal's new ragazza. They come, while ago," she gestured to the crowd, "There." They turned to look and caught a blond in the middle of a crowd of men. "Your friend maybe go a little wild, too, si?"

"Right. Hold down the fort. I'll be right back," the blond walked towards the dancing crowd, toward the provocatively dancing slayer.

"Huh?" he followed him, "Oh, yeah, here it comes. The part where you run off alone and play the big hero so Buffy'll take you back. Well, newsflash, Blondie Bear: Never gonna happen."

"Look! I know I don't have a shot with her, all right? Probably never did, but I still care about her, and I'm not gonna let her end up with a jerk like The Immortal. Or you."

"Hey, ours is a forever love."

He scoffed at him, "I had a relationship with her, too."

"Okay, sleeping together is not a relationship," he said.

"It is if you do it enough times," he returned.

"Spike."

"What?" he snapped.

"The head. Where's the head?"

"I thought you had it." They both looked back at the bar where they left the bag to see a butler pick up the bag and start for the door. "Hey!" Spike chased the butler, grabbing his shoulder. "Where you think you're going with our head, Jeeves?"

"Anywhere he wants," a voice from behind said.

They turned to see several large, bulky men behind them.

"Don't suppose we can talk about this over a nice amaretto?" Angel asked. One of them punched him in response.

She thought about them, the two vampires she had shared feeling for as the Immortal kissed and nibbled her neck. His lips, tongue and blunt teeth raked against the scar her first and only love had given her. She felt something jabbed into her stomach, and she felt numbness expanding from the prick.

Oh, shit, she thought.

One of the three men punched Angel in the face, and he staggered back, trying to find his balance. Spike jumped one of the men, knocking him to the floor. Angel punched the third man, as Spike jumped the man he tackled. They were even, punch for punch for a while, then Angel grabbed the man he was fighting and threw him headfirst into a wall. Spike punched the man he was fighting in the face, and then man stumbled into a display at the bar, destroying it. Angel walked towards Spike, and Spike spun, punching him in the face. When Spike had a chance, he saw he had punched Angel. Angel looked at him, wondering why Spike hit him. Angel rubbed his jaw where Spike's fist connected, before glaring at Spike, and punching him in the face. Spike growled at Angel, and Angel growled back, as they punched each other in the face, throwing each other across the floor.

"What the hell are you doing?" Angel asked, picking himself up.

"I was confused, ya git! It's very loud in here!" Spike yelled, standing.

"Where'd the little guy go?" Angel looked around, shocked, and a bit relieved that the majority of the crowd hadn't noticed the fight. The bartender was glaring at them though.

A fight broke out and she turned to look, but she couldn't move. The Immortal captured her lips. "We're getting out of here." He dragged her out the back door. She was too numb to fight.

She knew something was wrong with her, she didn't want to go anywhere with this…thing. But her brain no longer controlled her body. He dragged her along as she tried with all her might to resist.

She knew what he wanted, and she knew she didn't want the same. He stopped, pushing her up against the wall in the alley, running his hand up under her shirt.

Oh my God, she thought, he's going to rape me right here, and I can't do anything about it.

After watching the butler walk out with their head, with an obscene gesture as he left, Angel looked back to where Buffy had been dancing, but she was no longer there. He was torn between going after the head, and finding her. He had an obligation to return the head to LA, even just to keep the peace. But it was Buffy…his one true love, his soul mate. If something happened to her…if the Immortal did anything to her…He sighed. Spike followed his gaze.

"I guess it's the head then," he drawled.

Suddenly Angel knew something wasn't right. "Buffy's in trouble."

"What? Your 'spidey senses' tingling?" he asked snidely.

"You go after the head, I-"

"Oh no. I'm not chasing my tail for some head while you go off to save the damsel in distress."

"I know her-"

"Maybe you did, but she's changed. Changed so much you wouldn't recognize her."

He sighed, frustrated. He'd say about anything to get Spike to go away. Buffy was in danger, and she needed him. He wasn't quite sure how he knew, but he knew she needed him, "On my honor, I won't make a move on her until we're both there, ok?"

"What honor? You're just lucky the world's at stake." He sighed, "Hurry up, don't want the Immortal tainting her like he did Dru and Darla." He ran out the front, chasing the butler and the bowling ball bag.

Angel pushed his way through the dancing crowd. He was surrounded on all sides by grinding people. Some woman came up to him, grinding her ass into his crotch suggestively, but he pushed her aside. Once, he was someone who would have liked the attention, after all these years, but he had changed, and Buffy needed him.

He finally reached the back door, and pushed out into the cold alley. He looked up and down the little side street, before heading west, following her scent, distinct, though slightly altered, and with a hint of fear.

It didn't take him too long to find her and the Immortal. She was pressed against the brick wall, her eyes closed as the Immortal's hands roamed. Her shirt, previously leaving little to the imagination now left nothing, and her leather pants were unzipped, showing dainty pink lace.

The Immortal had her pinned against the alley wall, his hands up her shirt and down her pants, but she couldn't move to break away, couldn't move to fight him. She didn't want him to touch her, didn't want any of the attention he kept laying on her. Just because he had convinced her into one date didn't mean she was attracted to him. He was stalking her, and she should have done something about it, like she had done to the guy someone had tracking her, probably Angel, but she hadn't. She hadn't done anything, and now he was going to rape her.

But as he watched, she opened her eyes, and looked directly at him, pleading for help. He charged the Immortal, knocking him to the ground, "Leave her alone," he growled. Once her support was gone, she crumpled to the ground.

"Angelus, long time no see. Heard lots of good things about you. And not so good, of course. How's Drusilla and Darla?"

"Get out of here," he growled. He took the time to look the Immortal up and down. They had never met, the last time he was in Italy, but the guy was tiny in stature. He did radiate age, wisdom, but he wasn't anything like what he had expected. He couldn't tell how good a fighter he would be, appearances weren't everything, he had come to know.

"I'll see you later, Buffy," he sauntered down the alley, maybe sensing that his immortality wouldn't save him from the fury of a lover enraged, a lover who was none other than Angelus ensouled. There was no telling what Angelus would have done if he had gotten his hands on him after the fiasco with Darla and Drusilla, but he hadn't loved either of them. He had been incapable of love then. Now he had a soul, and he had loved. Now he was more dangerous than ever.

"Not…choice," she whispered pitifully, the words hard to push out of her heaving lungs, huddled on the dirty alley floor.

He knelt before her shivering form. Without touching her, he gently rearranged her shirt and zipped her pants.

"Let's get you home," he scooped her into his arms, and she leaned against his chest.

"Why…you…come?" every word was difficult as she fought the tranquilizer and alcohol. If she had known she would be drugged, she wouldn't have ordered that last martini.

"Because I still love you," he whispered for only her to hear, "I've learned love doesn't hide. It stays and fights. It goes the distance, that's why love's so strong. I've been trying to hide, but I can't. Our love is too strong. Strong enough to carry you all the way home." He sighed, never meaning to say so much, "Sleep now, you're safe."

In his arms, she fell into a peaceful sleep she couldn't find anywhere else.

The End


End file.
